


A Pleasure Trip to Camden Town

by 100dabbo



Series: Absent Togetherness [2]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Blow Jobs, Bottom Tommy Shelby, Cigarettes, Desk Sex, Flirting, Fluff, Goodbyes, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Lingerie, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Reunions, Shower Sex, Stripping, Top Alfie Solomons, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23946487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100dabbo/pseuds/100dabbo
Summary: Tommy and Alfie have been apart for far too long. Tommy wants to change that.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Series: Absent Togetherness [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726294
Comments: 27
Kudos: 113





	1. Suspended Separation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm back with a new Peaky fic for you all! I've put this in a series as a sort of carry on from 'A Long Distance Favour' so check that one out if you haven't already! Hope you enjoy! :)

“That sounds like a fine idea, Mr Solomons,” Tommy replied after he heard one of the most filthy suggestions to ever fall out of Alfie’s mouth come down the telephone. He bit his lip, subtlety pinching it between his teeth while avoiding the eye of Arthur who sat just opposite his desk, waiting for Tommy to put down the receiver and get some business done.

“Yeah, you’d proper like that, wouldn’t you? You little whore...” Alfie laughed down the phone while Tommy struggled to keep his face straight, “Alright, alright, there’s someone with you isn’t there?”

“That’s right, I’m just looking in my drawers for it now.” Tommy replied as he slowly opened the drawer and began rifling through irrelevant papers, continuing to listen to Alfie’s baiting,

“So, no repeat of the last time we were on the phone, eh?”

Tommy coughed to prevent any unseemly noises slipping out of him and he slammed the drawer shut with force, taking his glasses away from his eyes to let his hand nervously stroke his face, hoping to cover up his blooming cheeks,

“No, Mr Solomons, I don’t have that document with me, I must have left it somewhere else.” There was a pause, a small laugh from Alfie and then a sharp inhale from Tommy before he tried to finish their call, “Is there anything else you need right now? I have some work to do and—”

“Yeah, yeah, let me guess who’s with you and then I’ll let you go…” Tommy said nothing and waited, unable to help the corner of his mouth tug up ever so slightly. “John. I’m positive. It’s definitely John innit?”

“No, I’m afraid that would be the other one, Mr Solomons.”

“Fuck, Arthur! Really?” The sound of his deep laugh came down the telephone again and Tommy smiled wide to hear it grace his ears once more. The line went silent and after a beat, Alfie asked Tommy one last question, shifting his tone to a lower, softer level, “When will I see you again?”

Tommy wasn’t expecting to hear _those_ words in _that_ tone, certainly not after the vulgarity that coursed through their conversation just seconds prior. The softness of his voice resonated with him, making him lean back into that leather chair and take a deep breath. 

Whenever he would let his mind drift, Tommy often imagined Alfie in his Camden office without him, just sitting there behind his desk; maybe stroking his beard or running his fingers through his hair; fiddling with his rings and bracelets the way he would when he was bored; tapping his pen on his desk to keep him from too much quiet – all things he did because he missed him and was waiting for their next phone call, or telegram, or letter, or _any_ bit of communication with him at all. It had been too long.

Tommy cleared his throat and replied to the question.

“I could be there by tonight.”

That little answer managed to catch Arthur’s attention; his brow furrowed and he sat up in his own chair to glare at Tommy with a face full of confusion. His brother paid little attention to him, however, only offering him a simple side glance as he awaited on Alfie’s response,

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Excellent, I’ll get Lizzie to book a room for me right now.” He answered, ensuring his words stuck with the guise of a regular business conversation for is brother’s sake, and he smiled again, his heart pounding in his chest with excitement.

“Somehow, I don’t think that will be necessary.” Was the reply that joined itself with a laugh.

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow morning Mr Solomons.” 

“Love you, Treacle.”

And with that, Tommy put down the receiver, still smiling. The second he looked up however, he was once again met with Arthur’s confusion,

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’, Tommy?” He said with an exasperate hiss, “you have to get down to—”

“Don’t worry, Arthur, I’ve got my best man on it, I won’t need to go.” He interrupted, leaning back into his chair again and drawing a cigarette from his case, rolling it on his lips before clicking his lighter to ignite the end. He took one puff and Arthur was already reclining in his chair too.

“Alright,” He said, “Who is he?”

Tommy only raised his eyebrows and tilted his head forward. It took Arthur a few seconds to realise that Tommy meant _him_ , and when he did recognise his meaning, he promptly stood up and nodded his head, leaving Tommy’s office without argument.

It wasn’t like Tommy to be that impulsive, to just decide to make a journey half-way across the country on a whim, all because Alfie lowered his voice a little. But it had been too long. It was an eternity since they had last seen each other, touched each other, held each other; the two of them were starving for company, and Tommy was simply using his own initiative to be sated. 

Just as he was finishing his cigarette, Lizzie came through to his office, standing in the doorway with a pencil and a pad in her hand.

“Arthur said on the way out that you need a hotel, Camden Town again is it?”

“Don’t worry Lizzie,” He said as he took another drag, “it’s not exactly Britain’s favourite tourist location, I’ll get one when I arrive.”

“Oh, alright then,” She tucked her pencil into the pad and continued, “you still need a coach though, I’ll get it sorted now.” And she walked back to her own desk to make the call as Tommy gave her a ‘thank you’, stubbing his cigarette into his ashtray as he rose from his chair and shrugged on his over coat, “I’m gonna to pack some things, call me when the cab’s arriving!” He called out, leaving for his room and skipping every other step on the stairs, rushing to pack everything he might possibly need for just a two night stay down south.

He scanned the wardrobe for his best shirt, then for his best trousers, dashed to the top drawers for his undershirts, then the middle for his socks, then crouched down to reach the bottom drawer. He hesitated, and instead of instantly opening it, his hand curled around the cool brass knob, holding it there for a while before slowly pulling it out. He dipped his hand in to feel at its contents; the soft fabric within.

Alfie had bought them for him as a joke, surely, just for the laugh that they both shared when he received it, but then again, maybe not; it wasn’t like Alfie to make his jokes expensive like that. 

Tommy’s hands passed over the silky lingerie with gentle care; they were just a pair of underwear really, but the softness and luxury of it was too good to ignore, too good to pass up and keep in a drawer to collect dust forever. He’d never even worn them before, not even for Alfie’s eyes, and since it seemed impulsivity was what Tommy was going for that day, he picked them out, stood up and made a decision.

At around 10pm in Camden Town, Alfie was sat on his sofa enjoying a novel, passively listening to the faint patter of rain on the windows panes and the crackling spits of the flickering fireplace, each crisp turn of the sepia pages and the quiet crinkle of the book’s spine. Then his doorbell rang. The jarring ring sounded down the hallway and into the living room, loud and long, unmistakably the mark of his special guest.

Excitement flooded his veins the second he heard it, and his book was tossed onto the table without care as he shot up - not about to allow his maids to get the door for a second - and he walked down the hallway to the door, placed his palm on the handle, turned the lock and opened it to reveal a short, out of breath, rain covered man with a dripping coat and cap, a wide smile stretching his lips and a small trunk held in one hand with flowers in the other.

He took a step out of the house to greet him on the doorstep, and without saying a word, both of his hands took Tommy’s wet face and pulled him close, pressing their lips together underneath the pouring rain, drenching his dry clothes as the heavy pour beat down on the both of them.


	2. The Affable Accosting of Thomas Shelby (OBE)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy is welcomed inside and Alfie's lust becomes out of his control.

Eventually, they found themselves inside, Alfie’s clothes significantly more drenched than those of his guest; Tommy having worn his overcoat when stepping out of his cab and into the torrent of rain that had befallen Camden that night. His cap was secured on his head too, keeping his hair dry, and from beneath its dripping brim, he watched Alfie as he raked his fingers through his sopping hair, smirking. He caught sight of Tommy’s staring and raised his hand to take off the man’s cap, flinging it carelessly onto the entryway table, all the while keeping eye contact. 

“I’ve proper fucking missed you, mate.” He said, offering the first words to be uttered since their phone call over five hours ago.

“I’d gathered that from the way you put your tongue down my throat.” Tommy quipped, his own smirk evolving into a full smile once more. Alfie bit his lip,

“It won’t be the only going down your throat before you leave, I’ll tell you that.” Was his rebuttal before he took Tommy’s trunk and the rain-soaked flowers from his cold and shivering hands and stepped backwards, gesturing with his arms in the direction of living room and its welcoming warmth.

They both stepped in and Tommy threw his soaked coat onto the armchair, getting himself more comfortable and dry, adjusting to the warmth of the fire-lit room while the other man set down his trunk beside the sofa, standing there to watch him, because while Tommy had indeed taken the precaution to wear an overcoat, the one thing he did overlook, whether intentional or not, was to fasten it closed. 

That lovely white dress shirt of his was just as soaked as Alfie’s, thereby conveniently rendering it see-through. He peeled his jacket off of his limbs. He kicked the shoes off his feet. He took the glasses from his eyes. When he looked up, Alfie was already walking over to him with a hand in his pocket, and in no time, that mouth was already back on his, his soft beard to brushing gently against him; a feeling he’d missed far too much. 

Hands then found their way to his waist where they squeezed tight with a possessive grip, and Tommy leaned into them, encouraging the tight hold he had wanted to feel ever since the moment they last touched. Then he felt Alfie’s half-hard length press into him, and both acknowledging it, they separated to look into one another’s lusting eyes.

“I’ve been waiting for this, mate, waiting for it every fucking day and night we been apart.” Alfie’s low tone confessed.

“Then you better be careful with this suit, Alfie.” And he smirked, “It’s tailor made.”

Alfie couldn’t help laughing at that, whether in mockery or geniality, Tommy wasn’t sure, but either way that smile of his was heaven to see. His hand drifted up from Tommy’s waist to feel at the shirt’s wet collar,

“It’ll be the only fuckin’ thing I’m being careful with tonight, Tommy.” And his hand planted itself back onto his hip and with a grunt, he lifted him up into a straddle, Tommy’s lean legs wrapping themselves around him and hands holding on by those broad shoulders.

Their lips locked back together as Alfie began to carry him, albeit stumbling, up the stairs, half his mind concentrated on the precarious ascent and the other half on what a fucking miracle it was going to be to see that svelte little body of Tommy’s bare again and feel it beneath his fingertips, caress it gently and soothingly the way it was deserving of, and then rough and ferocious to treat him like the whore he knew he was.

He reached the landing and switched his mouth to Tommy’s neck, the first moan of the evening making a delightful escape from him as Alfie kicked open the door to his bedroom and stepped inside, placing Tommy down to catch his breath. He began to undress, Tommy watching all the while; those strong hands tearing the wet shirt from his arms and the trousers from his legs, that muscled frame gradually getting revealed before him, and once completely bare, neither were able to get a word in before their mouths smashed back together and Alfie picked him back up, only to walk three paces and violently throw him onto the mattress where the clean and crisp sheets were waiting for him. 

Alfie pursued him onto the bed, immediately fitting himself between his legs and reaching to unbutton his dress shirt, Tommy aiding to force each fastening open, their lips locked again in hot passion. The shirt was bust open to reveal his smooth and hairless chest, letting it be the new victim of those roaming hands until they moved just as fast onto the trousers, fingers slipping beneath the fly. Alfie took his mouth away to let his eyes capture the moment he would see Tommy’s cock for the first time in too long; both flaps were pulled to the side and his gripped to the waist band to jerk it down, revealing what was beneath. 

He stared back at the blue silken and lace underwear he had bought for Tommy so long ago.

He _had_ intended for the gift to make Tommy laugh, a crude little token of affection not to be taken seriously, but being alone was a great way to conjure up fantasies, and he’d be lying if he said these little beauties weren’t in every single one of them. 

He stripped the trousers away and discarded them on the floor without taking his eyes away for a second. Tommy’s half-hard cock was outlined by the smooth fabric, hugging it just right to make Alfie nearly speechless, a true rarity in these times.

“Fuck.” Was the only word he could muster up, wide eyes tracking around the masterpiece before him. With an extension of his delicate hand, Tommy’s fingers laced through Alfie’s wet hair and he looked down on him with heavy lids. 

“Just for you.”

Alfie’s eyes managed to tear away to glace up at him, his hands beginning to palm at the length confined inside the luxurious silk as he felt his own stiffen. His thumb slipped beneath the delicate lace waistband, and his body slid down further and further until his eyes were on level with it and his head was stationed between Tommy’s smooth thighs.

“Just for me you say?” He repeated, starting to tug them down, revealing inch-by-inch more of Tommy’s skin until he was fully unveiled, and his length flopped onto his hipbone. Alfie licked his lips. Tommy bit his own. They made eye-contact once more and Tommy lifted his legs, letting them slip off, rendering him naked with just that opened shirt left on his torso.

Alfie’s hand made a slow rise to Tommy’s mouth, his fingers gliding over his lips before two fingers entered and pressed on the tongue, waiting for Tommy to obediently suck and coat them with his own saliva, whereon he withdrew them and brought his middle finger down to Tommy’s entrance, gently circling the hole for teasing stimulation. He smiled and hummed, “What do I always say Tommy?”

Tommy of course knew what he wanted to hear, but playing naïve was always more fun than compliance,

“What’s that, Mr Solomons?” His whisper asked, teeth nipping at his bottom lip to feign innocence. Alfie narrowed his blue eyes, eager to begin, and so replied,

“I want to hear those moans.”

His finger pushed inside, immediately hooking in and around to find his prostate; finding that sweet little spot inside of him that could often make him forget his own name. Alfie was about to make that a certainty. 

Upon location, he rubbed and teased with the soft tip of his finger, watching with delight as Tommy’s jaw unhinged and his limbs slackened, a deep moan releasing as his hips bucked down onto it to chase the movements and push it deeper.

But, being the twisted bastard that he was, Alfie wasn’t about to leave it just preparation.

Just as Tommy was beginning to adjust to the pleasure, coming to expect the next finger to enter any second, Alfie decided to dip even lower, taking his mouth and wrapping it around that brilliant cock of his. He continued the work with his finger. He hollowed his cheeks. Tommy whined.

Both his hands took a fistful of the sheets, the high shrill sounding out as his whole shaft was taken into Alfie’s throat, encased by the warmth and wetness he hadn’t felt for weeks. 

“Alfie!” He whispered through hot breaths, blurry vision and fluttering eyelashes obscuring a clear view of the man between his legs. His hips bucked up once more, involuntarily, and Alfie hummed around as his nose met with his stomach, forcing out yet another exclamation of his name, “Alfie!” The fingertip rubbed at him again, calling for a third, ” _Alfie! My God!_ ”

The man dragged his lips up to the tip and came away, smirking, 

“What is it, Treacle? I’m trying to suck you co—”

But Tommy, who was in no state to play along, groaned from the loss and brought his hand from the sheet, cupping it onto the back of Alfie’s head to guide his mouth back down. The smiling lips gladly glided their way back down, keeping up with the rhythm of the finger that had stared to piston in and out, preparing him for a second.

When the second _did_ slide in, Tommy tensed, moaning as they scissored and Alfie’s tongue lapped on the underside of his dick, then with the introduction on an unexpected third, Alfie took away his mouth again to watch the reaction for himself; the pleasured wince and rose flush of his cheeks, the tensed, open jaw letting hot little breaths escape. 

He couldn’t help but laugh, the wide grin eventually catching Tommy’s eye when he managed to blink them open. He took the fingers out and crawled back up, looking at Tommy with his unwavering glare.

“What is it, Mr Solomons?” Tommy asked, catching back breath, hands roaming onto Alfie’s back to hold him closer. Alfie took his own length in his palm and stroked himself.

“You want my cock, don’t you?” Tommy leant back into the pillows and bit his lip, gently nodding his head and smirking. “Then you tell me how much you want it.”

“Oh, Mr Solomons,” Tommy began, “Ever since I arrived here in Camden Town, there’s only been one thing on my mind.”

“And what would that be, Sweetie?”

“You, fucking me into your mattress.” He narrowed his eyes as he spoke “I’m your little whore and I want you to treat me like it.”

Alfie hummed in both contemplation and pleasure. His tongue ran across his smiling lips.

“That’s good enough for me, Tommy.” He whispered. 

Tommy expected for him to thrust in and exact the ruthless pleasure he was used to, but instead, with gentle care, Alfie eased himself in, dipping his mouth down to Tommy’s neck where he latched it back onto the super sensitive skin, still divine all the same; he groaned louder once Alfie fully immersed himself, his hands drifting back onto Tommy’s bare chest; feeling at those hard nipples and pinching them between his finger and thumb, his teeth starting to nip at Tommy’s skin.

“Oh Mr Solomons!” Tommy cried, knowing calling him as such – and at such volume – made Alfie all the more passionate, and indeed the next thrust came in harsh, hitting Tommy’s sweet spot and letting a groan release in the crook of his neck. “Fuck me, Mr Solomons!”

Alfie’s hand whipped to his throat, disconnecting his lips to leaning up, his fingers applying the exquisite pressure he knew Tommy loved. Below him, Tommy was feeling the pre-ejaculate leaking onto his stomach, at which point he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold on for much longer; between how long it had been since he’d been fucked and the dominating control of Alfie on top of him, the next few thrusts were guaranteed to do it. 

“I’m going to come, Alfie!” He warned through a choked moan, the tightening grip and the quickening pace getting him closer and closer, though Alfie’s next command was clear enough,

“You’re gonna fucking come when I tell you to, understand?!”

Tommy nodded emphatically, his eyes tightly screwed in concentration, teeth digging into his lip, nails scratching at Alfie’s back, all the while the man above picked up his thrusts with more and more speed, fucking into him with all the power he had.

“Tell me who fucking owns you, mate.” He commanded, feeling himself edge closer and closer with the continual whines coming out of the other man.

“You do, Mr Solomons, you fucking own me!” Tommy practically yelled, starting to feel the lightheaded effects of Alfie’s grip as well as his rapidly approaching orgasm. He managed to open his eyes and Alfie saw it in them, glazed over and blown out pupils the unequivocal tell.

His hand moved from the slender neck and onto his weeping cock, tugging at it for extra stimulation; letting him get this one easy.

“Come for me you little whore.” Was his order, and Tommy was all too glad to obey, letting go and spilling across his stomach in a blissful orgasm, moaning louder than ever, smiling wide while Alfie continued to plough into him. 

His hands clasped to Tommy’s legs, throwing them over his shoulders for better leverage, dipping his body down low to reconnect their lips until he came with a grunt, deep inside of him.

He flopped onto the mattress beside Tommy, regaining his breath as the other man shifted onto his side, staring at him adoringly.

“Can’t tell you how fucking much I needed that.” He breathed out, extending his arm to stroke Alfie’s hairy chest with his hand, his fingertips feeling the rapid beats of his heart. Alfie shook his head and laughed,

“The fucking lingerie!” He tilted his head to look him in the eye, “Had them on all day, eh?”

Tommy only narrowed his eyes and grinned,

“A gentleman never tells.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! It's been a while since I've written some Sholomons smut and I think we all deserve it!


	3. The Best Thing Since Jewish Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after Tommy arrives at Camden Town and Alfie had big plans for their day ahead.

After he’d cleaned himself up, Tommy slipped into bed beside Alfie, letting him embrace from behind and hold him tight, that warm body pressed against his back drifting him away into a soundless and serene sleep. He slept entirely without trouble.

No nightmares, no cold sweats, no disturbances of any kind.

And he knew that Alfie had that power, the easy ability, unique to him and him only, that could make him feel safe and wanted, so much so that when he went away in his arms in peaceful slumber, he could wake up knowing he would still be there. 

And he was.

As soon as those blue eyes fluttered open to catch a glimpse of the light slicing through an opening of the curtains, he felt Alfie’s hands on his waist. It made him sigh peacefully, because the only thing more relaxing than being around Alfie was being in bed with him.

It’d been a while since Tommy had woken up in Alfie’s bed, and even then he would usually have to leave early, sometimes before he’d even woken up just so he could catch his cab back to Small Heath.

But this time was different. He wasn’t leaving for a while.

His eyes tracked around his view of the room, the notably ancient wardrobe Alfie had in the corner, its matching dresser and bedside cabinet just adjacent from where Tommy way laying; some possession of his grandparent or other, something he’d certainly explained in detail while Tommy was drunk, and something Tommy had certainly failed to retain. 

He glanced at that bedside cabinet and its brown stained wood, thinking how nice that vase that sat on top it was, the sunlight hitting it right to scatter small prisms of light across the floor, the nice flowers within it he’d put there to freshen up the room. 

Flowers coincidentally the same ones Tommy had brought last night. 

His brow furrowed. Did Alfie bring up the flowers last night? Or was it just chance he’d gotten the same ones? He thought hard about it, but before he got the chance to deliberate on a likely answer, Alfie’s hands tightened around his waist, obviously meaning that he too was awake.

“Mornin’ Tommy…” He hummed in his low tone, pressing his mouth to the back of Tommy’s neck, his soft beard ticking the sensitive skin.

“Morning, Alfie…” Tommy replied, sliding his hand over Alfie’s to keep his embrace held for as long as possible, though Alfie’s next thought would change his plans for a lie in.

“Going down to the office today.” He stated it as fact, no room for compromise or change, and so Tommy couldn’t help but moan and bury his face into his pillow, a ‘why?’ muffled into it. So, Alfie justified himself as he slipped out of the bed, “Because, my darlin’, if you end up going back to your precious little shithole you call home without any proof you actually came to me, they’ll be very fucking suspicious, won’t they Sweetie?” 

He stood above the dozing man, buttoning a shirt over his torso and smirking. Tommy eventually turned over onto his back to look up at him, pure apathy in his eyes. The other man held the stare until he grew bored and fixed his attention onto something else,

“Lovely flowers you got, Tom, very nice…” And he fingered the soft petals, gently stoking them against his thumb. When Tommy’s brow furrowed for the second time in the barely two minutes he had been awake, he stopped, “What?”

“You didn’t bring ‘em up last night?”

Alfie laughed to Tommy’s confusion, and walked to his dresser to pull out a pair of trousers,

“No, Tommy, I didn’t. I’m assumin’ you’re being naïve to be charming… I must say it is working, if that is indeed the intent of your peculiar fuckin’ question…” He raised his brow, eyeing up the man reclining against the headboard. After another second of silence, it became clear that Tommy was at a loss, not replying at all as Alfie walked to his side of the bed to take up his pocket watch and glasses. He only looked at him with sympathy in his blue eyes for his misunderstanding. “Tommy, let me answer your question with one of my own, right.” And he slipped his hand into his pocket while the other poised itself in front of him as though he were about to begin a speech.

“Okay.”

“Do you, Thomas Shelby,” He locked eyes with him, “know what a fuckin’ maid is, mate?”

“You fucking what?” Panic grew in Tommy’s tone; the single thought of a stranger, a person he himself didn’t know or trust, might have seen him at his most vulnerable, naked, in the same bed as a man terrified him. His eyes widened, “A fucking maid? A fucking maid came in here while I was fucking sleeping? Why?”

“Y’know…” Alfie began, surprisingly calm in his tone, “Because who else is gonna put flowers in here for when I wake up?” And the bastard had the gall to laugh. He took a glance behind him and pointed, “Look she brought up your trunk as well, that’s helpful!” 

When he turned back around, the naked Tommy Shelby had bolted out of the bed and was advancing on him,

“Do you know the fucking risk you’re taking here?” There was a fire in his eyes that burned into Alfie, a passion borderline to anger, and all the safety he had felt just a moment ago was gone.

“Tommy…” The other man’s voice lowered, deep enough to be a hum, and his hand softly traced up Tommy’s arm, “Do you know how many times I’ve fucked you in this house? Hm? Because I’m telling you now, yeah, every single time you fucking moaned, or wailed, or shrieked or cried, they’ve heard it all, mate. A bit late for protest now, eh, Treacle?”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Alfie?” Tommy countered, still panicked despite the soothing strokes across his skin.

“Yes. They’ll never talk, you hear me? Their sons work for me, you know, and if a single one of ‘em opens their fucking mouth, something very bad will happen to those boys.”

“Lemme guess, you’d kill them?” He sounded unimpressed by Alfie’s attempt at justification

“Oh, Tommy no!” And he smiled as he said it, “I’d do much, _much_ worse than that…”

His wide eyes softened to hear it, and he relaxed his shoulders, taking his gaze away to think about it. To be fair, what Alfie was saying was true, they’d fucked countless times in that house, and not just in the bedroom either, so if one of them was going to tell, they would have done it by now. Still, he’d be mortified to face them, especially if it _was_ true that they’d heard him every single time, so when he looked back up and into those kind eyes, he said,

“If we’re having breakfast, we’re having it up here.”

A sigh came out of Alfie and he pulled the man into a warm embrace, cuddling his naked body close, holding his head to his chest with his arms wrapped around his torso.

“If? What’s this if? We both know half the reason you’re here is for my bread, innit, Sweetie?” He laughed and so did Tommy as he attempted to draw away from the hug, a confused smile on his lips,

“What?”

“Shhh…” And Alfie kept his tight hold and stroked his hair as if still consoling, “You don’t need to say it, we both know…”

So, Tommy just laughed, his ear pressed against that warm chest, hearing Alfie’s steady heartbeat, and after a second, he sighed and dryly said,

“You’re right, it’s the best thing in all of Britain and that is the reason I travelled for four hours, halfway across the country, just to have it for my breakfast.”

“Mhm,” Alfie affirmed, his hands slipping lower to Tommy’s hips, “Though I think you made one mistake there, Treacle.”

Tommy lifted his head up to look at him.

“And what would that be?”

“It’s only the _second_ best thing in Britain.”

“So, what _is_ the best?” Tommy asked as he narrowed his lids and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue.

Alfie only gave him a sly wink, letting him go from his arms so he could get himself dressed.

When they slipped into the office around noon, Alfie strode in to take his seat at his desk, immediately poising his fingertips together as he watched Tommy walk towards the chair that sat opposite his own. Keen eyes saw him place his hand on the back to pull it away and sit down, but before he could get further, Alfie interrupted him,

“Hold on there, Tommy, just keep standing there.”

Tommy met his stare with interrogative eyes, and he raised his eyebrows, doing as he was told and staying still, retracting his hand, and putting it back into his pocket. He smirked and bit his tongue.

The silhouettes of the workers within the distillery shadowed through the windows and into the low-lit office. In their peripherals, both men could see them.

“Would you be a darlin’ and close those blinds for me?” Alfie asked, masking his smirk behind those tented fingers. His eyes flicked to the blinds in question and Tommy did as he was asked.

He walked to each window in turn, pulling the strings to let the metal blades fall down and bit by bit block the outside world from seeing into the office. He made his way back to the chair, watching Alfie switch on his desk lamb before raising his hand up,

“Hang on, Tommy, one more thing.”

And he stayed stood, eyes narrowing with impatience and fists balling inside his pockets.

“Yes?”

Alfie’s own eyes flicked up with his signature, unreadable stare, tracking up and down Tommy’s frame before locking with his face.

“Strip for me.” He commanded, that austere glare not one Tommy could ever disobey.

So, one slow blink and one heavy sigh later, and Tommy was reaching for the buttons on his shirt, 

“Very well, Mr Solomons…”

He popped each one open to gradually expose his chest, his mind busy calculating the risk they were running, while Alfie could only focus on him as each inch of his smooth, pale skin was revealed.

His hand palmed at his crotch, getting himself hard as his heavy eyes watched and his teeth sank into his lip, seeing Tommy shed layer after layer, gently fold them up and then place them on the seat of the chair, take off the shoes so he could easily slip the trousers from his legs. 

And once they were off, there they were again beneath it all, the blue lingerie, its silk reflecting softly from the bright bulb in the desk lamp. Tommy stroked them, sensually, passing over his groin with his left and around his arse with his right, teasingly running a thumb beneath the waistband. Then he pulled them down.

Alfie was quick to fish his cock out of his trousers and start stoking at the sight, seeing those slender legs make their way to the desk, those hands brace onto the edge as the body leaned over and the lips smiled,

“What now, Mr Solomons?” His quick tongue inquired, the glint in his eyes being his tell; he had wanted this fantasy to come alive as much as the other man since it was first sinfully transmitted through the telephone.

“Get under this desk and start sucking.”

Without another word, Tommy stepped back and crouched down, crawling through the desk to find himself at the man’s knees and looking up at him, his jaw unhinging to let Alfie take the lead.

So, noticing the quick compliance, Alfie gazed down into those wide blue eyes took his hands behind the man’s head, fingers laced through his hair, and then paused to appreciate the image in front of him,

“Do you know, Treacle, what my first thought was when I met you and saw those lips of yours?” Mouth still open, Tommy shook his head. “I thought to myself: ‘I can’t wait for them to be wrapped around my cock.’”

His grip on Tommy’s skull got tighter, and just as the man at his knees was about to respond, he pushed down, forcing that mouth down onto his dick and into his wet throat, that heavenly place he’d been waiting to feel ever since he’d called him from that very same chair. 

He groaned as it slid across Tommy’s tongue, his cheeks applying tight pressure as he swallowed down his own saliva and hummed as it filled his throat. Alfie could only let his eyes flutter shut and lean his head back in his chair, his hands guiding each bob of the head and drag of the lips, each soft swipe of the tongue on the underside and hollowing of the cheeks. But, just when Alfie was about to re-open his eyes, wanting to get him bent over that desk as soon as possible, Tommy choked, spluttering his salvia as he tried to come up for some air, looking up with tear stung eyes that begged for Alfie to relent his grip.

But Alfie only smirked, keeping his firm hands where they were, his head subtly shaking. So, Tommy was forced to keep his composure, taking a steady but small breath through his nose before continuing his work, humming as he rebuilt the rhythm of each bob. 

Through his own heavy breaths, Alfie offered him more encouragement,

“That’s right you whore, you’re gonna keep it where it’s fucking wanted.” And he grunted, bucking his hips slightly to poke into the man’s cheek, making him take it, no matter how forceful or rough it might be. And to his pleasure, Tommy did, and obediently too, nodding as he dragged his lips up and down, enjoying every fucking second of it.

But despite the immeasurable pleasure, his ultimate goal was to stay loyal to the fantasy, and in doing so, Alfie slowly laced his fingers into the man’s hair and tightened them in a fist to form an intense grip. Without warning, he yanked Tommy’s mouth away, angling his chin up with a pull, looking down into those glazed over eyes. 

The man before him was clearly downing in lust - flushed cheeks and heavy eyes his giveaway - and as he panted, mouth still open and lips wet with spittle, he waited for Alfie to do what was destined to happen next.

It felt rapid to him, the speed at which the man’s hands passed down from his head and onto his hips, lifting him up from his knees to turn him around, forcing his back down, bending him right over the desk. With his cheek pressed against the papers and documents on the desk, he waited with bated breath for the man to commence, then as he felt Alfie tap the head of his cock against his entrance, his teeth sank into his lip.

“You’re gonna to be a good little whore for me, yeah?”

Tommy hummed affirmatively and Alfie dipped his body down, his mouth level with Tommy’s ear. Just to edit the fantasy, he said,

“Shhh.”

And without saying another word, he slowly pushed himself in, pressing his body flush against Tommy at he reached his hilt, dropping his head in relief as he was gripped by that tight hole.

He couldn’t resist cursing, a ‘fuck’ escaping past his lips while his rough hands traced across Tommy’s hips, a ‘god’ coming out as he drew back, and another, more passionate ‘fuck’ coming out once he thrusted back in, all the while Tommy lay beneath him, enduring the spikes of pleasure hitting him, attempting to control his moans the best he could by keeping those teeth embedded his lip.

After a while of slow, steady strokes, Alfie wanted more, to pick up a faster rhythm of thrusting, to truthfully drive the other man insane with pleasure, and so he pulled Tommy up, his chest pressed against the man’s back, and as he started bucking in with a stronger force; the desk rocked back and forth, rattling the stationery across it while it creaked and groaned, the only other noise in the room to couple their hot, panting breaths. 

His passions rose more and more with each second, those thrusts getting deeper and deeper, and so when the head of Alfie’s cock inevitably hit Tommy’s prostate, an irrepressible whine came out of him, high pitched like a wail, and he held onto the edge of the desk with all his might.

“Shhh!” Alfie warned with a hiss, reminding him of what he already knew; the workers in the distillery, though instead of trying to make it easier for the man to control his volume, he made it harder, reaching around with his hand to start stroking his length, feeling the bead of pre-ejaculate form at his slit, “You’re gonna come now, like a good fuckin’ whore and a civilised fuckin’ whore, am I clear?” 

He purred those words into Tommy’s ear, and he was swiftly met with a muted moan and a nod, the man’s eyes screwed shut, his knuckles turning white from their clutch on the desk, and within the next few strokes of Alfie’s palm, he came, spilling onto the papers on the desk, his legs and arms shuddering. 

He caught the moan in his throat, holding his breath, gritting his teeth, euphorically stroked all the way through it until he was completely spent and panting. Alfie’s lips pressed on the back of his neck as he finished the last of it. 

He still continued ploughing him from behind, pushing him back down for his face to meet with the desk, and as he gradually reached closer to his own climax, he had to interrupt Tommy’s afterglow with a demanding question,

“Who owns you? Hm?” He asked him with a ferocious whisper, that steadfast grip on his hips not wavering or softening for a second, bound to leave marks by the next day. So, Tommy, in all his efforts, attempted a response,

“Al- Alfie...” Was his breathless murmur, sounding purely intoxicated on his own bliss. Alfie only snatched a fistful of hair and tugged hard on his scalp, pulling his head back,

“I can’t,” He thrusted harshly, “Fucking,” he thrusted again, hitting Tommy’s sweet spot one more time, “ _Hear you!_ ”

A whimper escaped Tommy before he could reply,

“Mr Solomons, _you_ own me!”

He quickly let go his grasp on Tommy’s hair and let him fall back onto the desk, returning his hands to the man’s hips to bring back the rhythm,

“You fuckin’ know it, eh?”

A fervent nod from Tommy, coupled with yet another affirmative hum, and Alfie was quickly approaching his release.

“I belong to you, Mr Solomons,” Tommy encouraged, hissing to keep his volume low, “I fucking belong to you!”

“Fuck yes, you do, Tommy!” Alfie grunted as he pulled out just in time, coming over Tommy’s back and groaning through the finish, savouring each second of the pleasure.

After a moment of standing there, enjoying the warmth of the orgasm, Alfie reopened his eyes and tucked himself back away into his trousers, fastening them closed just as Tommy turned around, smiling. Then Alfie, with a similarly charming smirk on his own lips, procured the handkerchief from his pocket between two fingers, folding it neatly to swipe across Tommy’s back, wiping away the evidence of their act and getting him ready to slip his clothes back on,

“Now, Tom,” Alfie cleared his throat, looking into those blue eyes, still heavy with the afterglow, “despite how much of a tragedy it is to see that body back into those clothes of yours, right, you might want to slip ‘em on before someone comes in to remind me that you ought be arriving in…” He glanced at his pocket watch, “about five minutes, yeah?”

The naked man blinked slowly, raising his hands to land on Alfie’s face. His fingers laced through his beard and his lips smiled, then they pressed onto Alfie’s lovingly.

“Okay.” Tommy whispered to him when he eventually drew away, making his way back around the desk to his pile of folded clothes on the chair to pull them back on.

Alfie collapsed into his chair with a sigh, watching the man take each article and carefully put them on, narrowing his eyes to pay special attention as the lingerie was stepped into, smoothly pulled up those slender legs and snuggly fit around his arse and softening cock. He was convinced he could watch that a thousand times and _never_ get bored of it. The trousers and shirt followed, then his jacket and he was fully dressed, finally able to take his seat at the desk.

“So,” Alfie began, poising his fingers identically to the way they were before Tommy had closed the blinds, “Better or worse?”

“Sorry?” Tommy asked, taking his cigarettes from his overcoat and placing one between his lips. Before he replied, Alfie reached for the lighter in his drawer and extended his arm, lighting the end with a small amber flame. Once it was ignited and Tommy took his first drag, he leant back. He opened his mouth, then there was a knock at the office door.

Both of the men directed their attention to said door, and until the knock was repeated, remained silent.

“Enter!” Alfie grunted after a second, and it was slowly creaked open for Ollie to step just past the threshold.

“Alfie, just wanted to remind you that Mr Shelby will be here soon.”

Alfie nodded, licking his lips and furrowing his brow as if in contemplation.

“Right, yeah.” And he paused to lean back into the chair, “You hear that Tommy?” He asked as he turned his head toward him, “Says you’re gonna be here soon, what d’you think about that?”

“I think it’s good, Mr Solomons, I do like to be punctual after all.” And he took another drag as he stared at Ollie in the doorframe.

“Right, then, I’ll leave yo—” 

“Yeah, I think that’d be best,” Alfie cut him off gently, though not before deadpanning, “Now fuck off.”

The door was shut on the two of them again. They looked at one another. Smoke drifted from the end of Tommy’s cigarette.

“Better or worse?” Alfie repeated, hiding his smirk behind his hands.

“Than what?”

“My bread.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Sorry this chapter took a while to finish, I had originally intended for it to have been uploaded two weeks ago, but it's better to be late than never lol :)


	4. An End to a Clandestine Spectacle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pleasure trip to Camden Town comes to end.

“I don’t know if I should be offended or pleased…” Alfie said, his eyes narrowed and staring at the man opposite him as he took the cigarette between his soft lips. Tommy took a drag and let the grey smoke escape from the side of his mouth.

“I’ve just told you your fuck is the best thing in Britain, Alfie, you should be pleased.” He replied, the corners of his mouth tweaking up into a smile as he sucked once more on the cigarette, its end glowing a bright orange. There was a pause, a beat of silence, and Alfie lowered his hands onto the arms of his chair, the bracelet on his wrist rattling against the wood.

“Yeah… but what does that say about my bread, hm?” He countered, rapping his fingers on the arm with the tips of his fingers, keeping his eyes only on Tommy’s lips as they spoke.

“What does it say about your fuck more like.” Tommy said, watching the soft plumes of smoke rise above him as they drifted into the air, “Considering we were thirty seconds away from being caught too.”

“It’s alright, Ollie knows.” Was all Alfie said, rather matter-of-factly too, letting his gaze drift across his desk to see those unfinished documents, covered with Tommy’s ejaculate. He smirked, then sat back up in his chair, leaning closer towards him, his eyes joyful.

“Alfie, there’s a difference between knowing two men are in a relationship and seeing one fuck the other over a desk.” Tommy responded dryly, letting his smirk grow into a full smile. He tapped the cigarette ash into a tray.

“Well then it’s good we didn’t get caught, eh, Treacle.” He whispered, the desk light bright enough for his eyes to twinkle.

“Right you are.” Was Tommy’s attempt at ending the conversation, but when Alfie got up from his seat, standing up and forcing Tommy’s neck to crane in effort to maintain eye contact, the man said,

“Next time, we’ll make sure no one’s in the bakery, does that sound better, yeah?”

Tommy just blinked slowly and finished off his cigarette.

“Yeah.”

And he stood up with him, following his lead out of the office.

They walked all the way through the distillery, past all of the workers busy at their jobs without a single shred of guilt about them, and upon reaching the exit, Ollie came through the hallway to stop them. He threw a brief glance at Tommy and then focussed on Alfie.

“Alfie, where are you going, we’ve got loads of shit to do.” He said with an air of concern about him, as if the distillery would collapse without Alfie’s presence. Alfie sighed heavily, not letting there be any doubt about his irritation, and he slowly began to approach him, taking his hands out of his pockets. He had no qualms about letting Tommy stand and watch by the door, and so took the opportunity to reinforce what Tommy already knew. _He_ was in charge in the distillery.

He looked down on Ollie, staring into his eyes with a glare consisting of nothing but pure frustration.

“No, _you’ve_ got loads of shit to do,” He hissed at him, a snarl growing on his upper lip, “I’m going to be busy taking Mr Shelby on a lunch date.”

“But Alf—”

“Ollie.” He snapped, his voice growing louder, “Tell me, right, what was the last thing I said to you when you left my office, hm?” There was a pause, and the other man replied, looking down at the floor,

“You said ‘fuck off’.” He admitted, defeated, and he shifted on his feet as Alfie’s presence grew even closer.

“I did,” He confirmed, “I did say that, didn’t I Tommy?” He asked the man without moving his eyes from Ollie’s.

“Yes, I heard that.” Tommy concurred apathetically, secretly enjoying Alfie’s display of dominance over his employee.

“Right, that’s sorted then.” And he backed away, straightening his expression as he put his hands back into his pockets, “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow and I want new drafts of those contracts on my desk.”

“Which ones?”

“You’ll know which ones.”

And without another word, they stepped out of the distillery and into the street. Tommy looked at Alfie with a grin,

“Taking me on a lunch date, eh?”

“Well, I am now, yeah.”

The two of them had a good day after that, despite it being completely spontaneous; a small lunch in Alfie’s favourite tea room in Camden with cute little sandwiches and biscuits, then a nice walk through the market to gawk at the precious (and not so precious) things on display, then to finish it off, an evening at a pub where Tommy indulged himself on however much alcohol he pleased, while the sober Alfie watched and told him stories he couldn’t believe.

“You didn’t, there’s no way!” Tommy laughed, his disbelief coming from a particularly violent tale about Ollie and the consequence of slacking on a hot summer day.

“What would you do? You catch one of your men sleeping on the job, how else you gonna wake em, eh?” He laughed, watching each bob of Tommy’s Adam’s apple with the swallow of whiskey.

“I don’t know, Alfie, but I’d certainly not kick him in the balls!” And he chuckled again, finishing off his fourth glass.

“You’ve gotta be cruel to be kind sometimes, you know that?” Alfie justified his actions, watching as Tommy stood up.

“Let’s get home, eh?” He said, offering his hand to Alfie to help him up.

After a short taxi ride back to Alfie’s home, they were back in the hallway, Tommy slightly drunk and light-headed as Alfie helped him peel the over coat from his arms, throwing it on the rack. He turned around and lowered his eyelashes.

“Mr Solomons… Will you carry me up the stairs?” He requested with a salacious tone, his arms sliding up the man’s chest, landing on his broad shoulders, embedding his teeth in his lip.

“Fuck me, Sweetie, how can I say no to that face?” The man whispered, landing small kiss on his lips.

Just as he said he would, Alfie carried him up the stairs, getting him inside the bedroom and stripping him bare, then landing him on the bed to cover him with the soft sheets, slipping in himself to let him snuggle up to his body.

“I love you, Alfie,” Tommy slurred, slowly stroking his hand across the short hairs on his chest, “I proper fucking love you to bits…”

“I love you too, mate.” He whispered back, tracing his fingers through his soft hair.

But Tommy was already asleep.

Waking up was bittersweet. Alfie’s eyes opened first, staring up at the ceiling until they glanced down to see Tommy still curled up at his side, his head resting on his chest as it rose and fell with each breath.

It was the last time they were going to share an intimate moment for weeks, and Tommy was going to be leaving too soon. He stirred not long after Alfie, sighing and keeping his forehead embedded in the man’s warm chest.

“What time is it?” He mumbled to Alfie, refusing to open his eyes and make the daybreak a reality. Alfie glanced at the clock and reported what its hands told him,

“About eleven.” 

“Fuck,” Tommy whispered, blinking his eyes own and supporting his weight on his arms to get himself up. His tousled hair flopped over his forehead as he sighed heavily and looked to the window, “The coach is gonna be outside the distillery at twelve.”

Alfie laughed and smiled warmly, his hands snaking back around Tommy’s waist to assure him they still had time,

“Sweetie, that’s an hour!” He said, “just relax, right, read the paper or somethin’, yeah, and then we’ll get dressed and make our way down there.”

Tommy eyes stayed on the window, the streams of bright light diffusing across the room.

“I’ll need a shower.” He said, turning his head to look at Alfie, that smile of his somehow grown even wider.

“Top notch suggestions as _always_ , Tom,” He chuckled, “Go in and I’ll joint you in a second, alright?”

So, Tommy slipped out of Alfie’s arms, making his way into the en-suite to turn on the shower and step into the hot water. He stood in the scalding stream, his head angled up, the water pouring down his face and body, perfectly drenching him. Then, Alfie stepped into the bathroom.

He stood watching for a while, seeing Tommy’s body glisten with wetness, the sun making small rainbows through the fast falling water. It was magical to see him like this, almost an ethereal image of pure grace; his naked body stood within the light and shining with perfection.

After a moment, he stepped in with him, coming up behind him, slipping a hand on his hip while the other reached for the soap and began to lather against his soft skin.

“You like to be clean, don’t you, Tom?” Alfie said as he started to rub the man’s chest with the suds, relishing each soft moan he hummed out. He placed the soap back onto the holder and continued talking, “Well, mate, isn’t it such a fucking shame that you’re such a dirty little whore?”

His hand grabbed onto Tommy’s cock, forcing a groan out from him, his hands bracing onto the tiles from the shock.

“Alfie!” He whined as the man’s palm began to jerk, repeating it louder as it gripped tighter.

“That’s Mr Solomons to you, Treacle.” He purred into his ear, keeping the hand on Tommy’s hip nice and tight while he built up a steady rhythm, the hot steam rising around them.

“Oh, Mr Solomons! Touch me like that!” Tommy begged as he wailed, thrusting himself into that hand, desperate for pleasure. Alfie’s thumb traced deftly across the head, pressing softly into the slit to tease, making Tommy cry out again, “ _Fuck!_ Mr Solomons, use your fingers, _please!_ ”

Alfie couldn’t deny him when he spoke like that, and so he gladly obliged, his hand inching down from his hip, his fingers moving across his curve to circle his entrance before pushing in, hooking deep to locate his sweet spot, making the man’s legs tremble as the tips of those digits rubbed at the same speed as the passes up and down his cock.

“You like it? Hm?” Alfie asked, keeping himself composed, contrasting Tommy’s choked moans. The man dug his teeth into his bottom lip as he nodded, rocking his body back onto Alfie’s digits. “You want to come, hm?” He condescended, earning another weak nod in response. “Go on then…” Was his last whisper, leaning his mouth into Tommy’s neck, pressing in onto the skin with his soft wet beard.

Within moments, Tommy’s breathing hitched, getting lightheaded, and he came, shooting white onto the wet tiles as his lascivious ruckus echoed on the walls.

Alfie withdrew his fingers after a second, releasing his hold on Tommy’s cock too as he reached back for the soap, slicking his hands to clean himself.

“Fucking hell, Alfie,” Tommy breathed as he turned around, “Fucking love you.” And his lips pressed onto Alfie’s, joining together in a wet kiss, his hands holding onto tight his broad shoulders.

They both got out a few minutes later, stepping back into the bedroom to find it neater than they’d left it.

“Maids, eh?” Tommy asked as he opened his trunk for his fresh clothes, making Alfie laugh at the question.

“Why, would you look at that, he’s only bloody catching on to it!” He goaded, watching Tommy slip on his suit.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you.” Tommy said, smirking, walking to the bedside table to pick up his glasses, unaware of Alfie approaching behind until his hands grabbed his waist and his chin rested on his shoulder.

“Don’t mind if I do…” And his fingers fiddled with the belt Tommy had only just fastened, seeking to unloop it from its holes and dump it on the floor to get him bare again. It was only when he was met with protest that he stopped,

“Alfie!” Tommy giggled, flinging his glasses onto the freshly made bed to free up his hands, “We can’t!” And he swivelled around to stare at Alfie’s eyes, soft and gentle, creased from smiling. “We don’t have time…” And he released himself from Alfie’s hold to walk over and pick up his packed trunk, “You can drive us down to the distillery, right?” He checked, glancing to his pocket watch that told him they were still over forty-five early for it.

What Tommy was expecting to hear was a yes; short, sweet, and concise, but in actuality, Alfie’s reaction to the question was much different. He winced, his teeth bared and his tongue tsking while he put his hands in his pockets.

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh _dear_ , Mr Shelby,” He teased, “You’ve only gone an asked a _jew_ if he can drive a _car_ on a _Saturday_ …”

Tommy only looked up, unimpressed.

“What?”

Alfie inhaled sharply and sighed, raising his hands to begin a sermon-like speech,

“The holy scripture to which I follow and live my life by dictates that a man, such as myself, may not use the holy sabbath day of Saturday in order to perform tasks such as th—”

“Alright, Alfie, I get it, you can’t drive.” Tommy huffed, trying and failing to hide his dimples.

“So, I guess,” Alfie began, leaning his body above Tommy’s, “This means you won’t be getting a lift to the distillery, hm?”

“Yes. Yes, it does.”

“Right. Right, yeah.”

“It also means that we’re walking there.” Tommy said plainly, stretching out his arm for Alfie to take his case for him. He accepted it, taking if off him and following as Tommy opened the bedroom door and walked down the stairs, taking his overcoat from the rack to shrug it over his shoulders.

Then, just as his hand was about to catch the doorknob and open it, leaving the house to not return for weeks, Alfie caught his wrist, holding him and making him wait.

“We won’t be able to say goodbye _properly_ out there.” He reminded, the happiness in his eyes replaced with somewhat seriousness.

So, Tommy, leaning in close, holding Alfie by the lapel of his jacket, pulled in for a deep kiss, his tongue swirling around Alfie’s with slow, languid movements.

The brush of his beard reminded him of how always loved the way it felt, how running his fingers through it and have it brush against his smooth mouth was, how having it tickle his thighs in that divine way as his cock was swallowed whole was ecstasy, the way it would scratch against his chest when his nipples were tweaked and sucked, even its brush against his nape when the man kissed it every time he got fucked from behind. 

Tommy savoured each second of their farewell, and as he finally pulled away, he let his hand stroke the soft hairs before separating completely and opening is eyes, blinking softly.

“You’ll call me as soon as you get there, won’t ya, Treacle?”

“Of course, Alfie.”

They arrived outside the distillery within half an hour, enjoying their last conversations in person before it was to be solely transmitted over the telephone wire. 

And to their disappointment, Tommy’s cab had arrived early.

Alfie passed him his trunk and offered his hand out to be shaken, keeping his smirk on his lips despite to solemnity of the occasion. Tommy took the hand and shook it, lingering his hold as he said his formal goodbye.

“Goodbye, _Mr Solomons_ , I hope to be hearing from you very soon…”

And he let go of the hand turning around to step into his cab, hearing a ‘mind how you go, Sweetie’ as he shut the door. And although it felt somewhat cruel, he refused to look out of the window as the car drew away from Camden Town, only clenching his fists tight, holding on his emotions and preserving them from showing.

Four hours later, he was back in Small Heath, arriving at the betting shop to reunite with his family. John greeted him at the door, immediately questioning his visit,

“What did Solomons want then, Tommy?” He asked, drawing a cigarette for himself and one for Tommy, lighting both with his own lighter.

“He’s, uh, made a new rum, wanted me to check it out and sign a few things, y’know, just boring stuff…” And he took a drag of his cigarette to calm his nerves; not that he was struggling with the lie, but more with the reminder of the long-awaited separation before them.

“Bring any back with you?” John asked with excited eyes, tapping his ash into a tray.

“No, sorry, I didn’t think to.”

John just nodded and paused, taking a draw of his cigarette, opening his mouth in order to ask yet another question, but Lizzie called out for Tommy from her office,

“Tommy, a telegram’s just come through for you!”

“Get my glasses from my coat, will you John?” He asked as he made his way through to read it.

John took Tommy’s coat, but after rifling through each pocket, he turned out empty handed.

“They’re not in your trunk are they Tommy?!” He shouted through, causing a slight sting of panic through him as the scenario of John looking through his luggage raced through his mind.

“Don’t bother, John, it’s fine!” He quickly shouted, taking the paper from the machine. He held it close to his eyes to eliminate the blur and read it as best as he could.

_Left your glasses. I’ll be seeing you soon, Treacle._

“Who’s it from, eh?” John asked as he walked back through, taking the last few hits of his cigarette. Tommy’s own cigarette only dangled from his lip; the ash precariously balanced on the end.

“Solomons,” He said, “Just confirming something.”

And without another word, he folded the paper, went back to his trunk, picked it up, and walked up to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much if you've gotten through this, it was _such_ a pleasure to write. A very special thanks to AbusiveLittleBunFilledWithDepression for the kindest comments on earth and inspiring me to make this piece after a two month long hiatus of fic writing. It really is super nice to see your support and comments, which are _always_ appreciated. Keep your eyes peeled for more Sholomons, some may be coming very soon... :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'm sorry I haven't written a Peaky fic in _such_ a long time (over two months yikes!), but I'm back now with new four part fic that I hope you'll enjoy :)


End file.
